


Subtle

by CashaMayfield



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-29 12:02:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7683799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CashaMayfield/pseuds/CashaMayfield
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Only Red Alert would notice the differences, but then he didn’t know any better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Subtle

**Author's Note:**

> This is where I apologise yet again for playing on Red Alert’s paranoia… I know he’s not that bad, but sometimes, just sometimes it’s fun to play with!  This was written for a challenge on the [](http://tf80sfun.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://tf80sfun.livejournal.com/) **tf80sfun**  community.  And it’s very short and probably only just fits the prompt of ‘post holiday blues’
> 
> Feedback makes friends. Flames dealt with by the masters of paranoia and fire, Red Alert and Inferno.
> 
> First posted on Livejournal on 23/01/2008

“It’s a plot.” Red Alert muttered under his vocaliser, staring at the screens in front of him.  
“Huh?” Inferno sat up in his chair where he’d been relaxing, optics offline.  
“No one is acting like themselves.  It’s the Decepticons.” Red Alert answered, shifting his gaze briefly from the monitors to his friend.  
“Red… what are you on about?”  
“Look.” Red Alert stabbed a finger at the monitors.  Inferno stood up and leant over the Security Director’s shoulder, watching the monitors.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Blaster sat in the communications room, attention focussed on the display in front of him.  
“Don’t see nothing wrong there Red.”  
“Listen.”  
“I don’t hear anything.”  
“Exactly.  Blaster normally plays music at a volume loud enough for me to warrant turning the sound down here.”  
“And the sound’s up now?”  
“To the maximum.”  
“Oh…”  
“And here, look.”  Red Alert pointed at another screen; this one showing Jazz walking down the corridor next to Prowl.  
“What?”  
“Watch Jazz.”  
“I am.  I don’t see anything wrong there either.”  
“Review your memory files for how Jazz normally walks.  He has a bounce in his step that is quite distinctive.”  
“Oh yeah…” Inferno leaned closer to the screen, watching how Jazz and Prowl were walking in an almost identical way.  
“And there’s Prowl’s doorwings.”  
“What?”  
“See how they droop ever so slightly?  He normally holds them far higher.” If Inferno looked carefully, he could just see what Red Alert was talking about.  He remembered that Prowl held his wings quite stiffly usually.  On the monitor, there was a sag in the wings that was clearly noticeable if you knew what you were looking for.  
“And there!” Red Alert’s cry drew Inferno’s attention to another monitor.  Ratchet sat in his med. bay, a small weary smile on his face.  Nearby, Gears was sat on a berth, talking at a pace worthy of Bluestreak.  
“Looks like Gears is talking Ratchet’s audios off.”  
“By now, Ratchet would normally have shouted and thrown Gears out.  Any minute now I am expecting Huffer to walk in and Ratchet will leap around in joy.” Red Alert’s sense of humor was slightly drier than any other mech. Inferno had ever known, but given his job, he supposed there wasn’t much to laugh about.  “It’s all a plot.  And Wheeljack hasn’t even gone near his lab. today!”  
“Thank Primus for small mercies?” Inferno asked, still quite confused.  
“Wheeljack would normally have headed for his lab. first thing this morning.  Instead, he and a lot of the others are just lounging about in the rec. room.” Red Alert pointed at yet another monitor, prompting Inferno to wonder how the Security Director could actually keep his optics on them all at the same time.  Red Alert was correct; many of the mechs who weren’t actually on duty were sitting in the rec. room, seemingly staring at nothing.  Few conversations were going on.  
“This has the mark of the Decepticons all over it!”  
“Doubt it Red.  They wouldn’t have been able to get past your perimeter would they?” Inferno clapped the smaller mech. on the back, before standing up straight.  
“I’ll go see what’s going on.”  
“No, wait Inferno, I need you here!”  
“Red…”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Hey guys…” Inferno entered the rec. room, expecting a chorus of replies.  He faltered for a step when he received nothing.  A few mechs looked up from their energon but said nothing.  
“O… kay…” Inferno sat down next to Bluestreak, knowing that if he could get a response out of anyone, it would be the young gunner.  Hey Blue… You okay?”  
“Yeah.” It was a combination of the short answer and the shrug of Bluestreak’s shoulder that made Inferno sit back.  
“For once… I think Red may actually be right…” He muttered, deciding the best course of action was to return to the command center where Red Alert was.  Something was definitely wrong, but he had absolutely no idea what.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Red… you’re right…”  
“I told you!  It’s the Decepticons.  They’ve infiltrated and infected our energon supply!”  
“But didn’t you have energon this morning?” Inferno asked.  Red Alert snapped his mouth closed with an audible click.  
“But something is wrong with all of them.” He gestured to the myriad of screens in front of him.  “I need to inform Optimus.”  
“A’right, but I’m coming with you.”

Mere moments later, they were outside Optimus Prime’s office.  Red Alert pressed the door chime before calling out his commander’s name.  They got no response.  Red Alert turned worried optics towards Inferno who simply shrugged.  
“Optimus?  I need to speak with you.” Again, there was no response from within.   
“He’s definitely in there, right Red?”  
“Of course!”  Red Alert called out one more time before overriding the door lock with his security code.  As they entered, Optimus Prime looked up slowly from the datapad he was holding.  
“Optimus…?”  
“Yes Red Alert?” Even the tone of Prime’s vocaliser sounded weary.  
“I must inform you that the behavior on this ship has changed radically.  No one is acting like themselves and I believe it has something to do with the Decepticons.”  
“It doesn’t Red.” Prime put down his data pad and gestured for the two to sit down.  
“Then what is it, if not a Decepticon plot?”  
“Post holiday blues, Red.  After all the fun and excitement of Christmas, everyone feels a bit… well, let down.  The war goes on.” Red Alert simply stared at his commander.  
“Post holiday blues?”  
“Yes.”  
“That’s… that’s…” Ridiculous was what he wanted to say, but he couldn’t bring himself to vocalise the word, especially in front of Optimus.  
“Well, it is a bit of a downer having to go back to normal, ‘specially after that party Red.” Inferno reminded him, realising the truth in what Prime said.  
“I…” There was nothing Red Alert could say.  He hadn’t attended the party, maintaining that someone needed to keep alert in case the Decepticons tried to attack.  That day had been another normal shift, if not a little quieter than normal.  
“If you’ll excuse me Optimus.” Prime nodded and watched Red Alert leave, noticing the slight way his Security Director dragged his feet.  
“We’ve got to make sure he comes to the party next year Inferno.”


End file.
